Living Without You
by Fluffy Queen Miri
Summary: George Weasly learns about grief from a woman who knows it all too well. ONESHOT


Disclaimer:** The song is Living Without You by Beth Crowley, and the characters belong to JKR. Only Athena belongs to me, and even then, she's dead so... *shrug***

_I walk alone_

_Pace up and down the streets we used to know_

_'Cause our house no longer feels much like home_

_It hasn't for a while_

George Weasly walked through the snowy streets of Hogsmeade, a parcel tucked under one arm, staring at the ground. It hurt too much to look up, when there were spectres of Fred everywhere he looked.

Zonko's, where they'd stocked up on Dungbombs.

The Three Broomsticks, where they'd gone and flirted with everyone, up to and including both Professor Trelawny and Hagrid.

The Hogs Head, where they'd gone to their first Dumbledore's Army meeting.

Now there would never be a **they** again.

_I hum along_

_Listening to all your favorite songs_

_Close my eyes and just imagine you're not gone_

_Remembering your smile_

Muggle music blared out of Honeydukes, accompanied by children ripping into bags of candy - after all, it was nearly Christmas. George hummed along, and he could practically see Fred's triumphant grin. Fred had alwaus loved old Muggle pop music, whilst George preferred Wizarding rock. That was why they played both in their shop, first some of Fred's Beatles, then George's Wierd Sisters.

But Fred would never enthuse about the Cure, or Pink, again.

_I write you letters that you'll never read_

_Paint you pictures you will never see_

_In all my life I never thought I'd be_

_Living without you_

A little girl, muffled up in a bright pink coat, squealed as her kite rained sparkles down on her, contrasting harshly against the greyish white sky. A kite that writes personalised messages against the sky, thought George, extra 2 Galleons for multicoloured lettering.

" What do you think, Fre-" An idea that Fred would never hear. He turned away from the little girl.

_I lost some part of me I'll never find_

_But I keep searching, looking for a sign_

_You haven't gone and left me far behind_

_It's getting late_

_Amongst the crowd I swear I see your face_

_Turn around have to do a double take_

_Though I know it won't be you_

George sat on the wet snow beside the gravestone, pressing his shoulder against the damp stone. He could almost imagine that it was a warm shoulder, not a hard rock, and that if he turned his head, he would see a reflection of himself, except with two whole ears.

People were hurrying about outside the graveyard, but none of them came in to disturb the red headed boy who just wanted his twin back.

George tugged at the brown string, keeping his precious parcel together. The brown paper fell away, and George smiled half a smile. The other half of his smile was buried with Fred.

He put the scarlet jumper, emblazoned with an F, on the gravestone.

_I hear your voice_

_A symphony that soars above the noise_

_Telling me that now I've got to make a choice_

_Stay still or start a new_

The gate swung open again, and a tall figure, dressed in black, head bowed against the wind, made their way through the graves. George looked at them curiously, but they appeared not to notice him, pointed hat standing tall despite the wind. Their cloak billowed in a truly Snape-like fashion as they made their way through the graves.

He watched them, intrigued. Who was visiting a graveyard on Christmas Eve? He saw them walk past the newst graves, past the Fallen Fifty, past the monuments to Dumbledore, Snape, James and Lily Potter, to the oldest graves, the graves from the First War.

**C'mon, Georgie, let's go and see who it is! Are you a Gryffindor or not?**

He could practically hear Fred egging him on.

**Alright, Freddie.**

_I write you letters that you'll never read_

_Paint you pictures you will never see_

_In all my life I never thought I'd be_

_Living without you_

Minerva Mcgonagall sat beside an old grave, slightly worn from years of wind and rain.

"Good evening, Mr Weasly." George jumped.

" Professor?!" She smiled, leaning against the headstone.

" What are you doing here, Professor?" He asked, sitting down, not caring that the snow soaked through his jeans.

"The same as you, Mr Weasly." She smiled a half smile that George knew all too well. "Visiting my twin."

He peered at the headstone.

**Athena Mcgonagall - A girl who always laughed, a woman who always did what was right, a twin who will always be remembered.**

_I lost some part of me I'll never find_

_But I keep searching, looking for a sign_

_You haven't gone and left me far behind_

_Living without you_

They sat there, in silence, for they didn't know how long.

" Sometimes," said Minerva, her breath making clouds in the air, " I look in the mirror, and I think that it's her."

" Sometimes," George addressed the air, " I pause in the middle of a sentance, and expect him to finish it."

" Sometimes, I look at her photographs for hours to make sure I haven't forgotten her."

" Sometimes, I pretend to be him, and I do all the things that he used to do."

Neither of them say what they both think.

**Sometimes, I wish I had died, and they had lived.**

_I write you letters that you'll never read_

_Paint you pictures you will never see_

_In all my life I never thought I'd be_

_Living without you_

"Will it always hurt this much?" He asked. It was beginning to snow again, and somewhere in the distance, a clock was chiming. Minerva hesitated.

" Yes. It always hurts, but you will get used to it." She wrapped her arms around him, and he clung to her.

_"We never thought, did we, that we'd be living without them."_

**Read and Review please! And I am considering writing a (hopefully happier) fic featuring Athena, so let me know your thoughts!**


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